Gemotions

The fluorescent lights in the gymnasium seemed to hum, a monotonous drone that was amplifying the fatigue. Ben waited, hands clasped, in front of the coach’s office. He’d barely slept a wink last night.

He felt a deep sense of heaviness throughout his body. His eyes felt dry and gritty, and he found himself rubbing them instinctively. He wanted to rest, just for a moment, to close his eyes and forget.

Coach Harris emerged, clipboard in hand. "Ben," he said. Ben fought to appear composed, but it was a losing battle.

Everything seemed muted and blurred.